


with a little help from my friends

by burnsidesjulia



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Broken Bones, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, for lack of a better word- 'bro shit', this got out of hand folks, what's better than this? guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnsidesjulia/pseuds/burnsidesjulia
Summary: Magnus breaks his arm. As he discovers the unique challenges that come with this, he looks to Barry for help.
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Magnus Burnsides
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	with a little help from my friends

**Author's Note:**

> this is set in very early stolen century, think first 15 years. with that out of the way, on with the show!

Magnus sits up off the floor grinning. Merle sighs and puts an impatient hand on his forehead to stop him from moving further. His other hand is still gingerly touching Magnus’s cast. “You shouldn’t be able to bend it with this on but, if you do manage, it’s gonna hurt. So don’t.” Merle shakes his head. “And quit doin’ stupid shit all the time. My medical supplies don’t replenish every cycle, you know.” He lets go of Magnus and immediately the fighter is up on his feet, snatching one of Lucretia's sharpies off the countertop. Magnus whips back around just as fast, making a bee-line for Barry and holding the pen out, uncapped below his nose.

“Hey, Bluejeans. Wanna take my cast virginity?”

Barry wrinkles his nose. The smell tickles. "As long as you promise to never call it that again, sure.” He takes the sharpie from Magnus and puts a gentle hand on the underside of the cast, holding Magnus’s arm still while he scrawls out a messy ‘Barry J. Bluejeans’.

Magnus pulls the cast back to himself and immediately starts trying to read the signature upside down. “What’s the ‘J’ stand for?” he asks, his head cocked unnaturally to the left. Barry recaps the sharpie and offers it back, unable to hold back the fond smile that tugs at his lips. “James. I tell you this every time you see my signature.”

“Hey, that’s my middle name, too!” Magnus flashes a bright, toothy grin. He’s missing the front left tooth, his tongue poking through the hole as he grins. Magnus lost it to the same fall that broke his arm a couple days ago, when he climbed into a tree to get down a bandana that had gotten stuck on a branch. The branch wasn’t strong enough to hold him, and both he and the limb hit the ground hard. He raises his hand up for a high-five, but he’s holding up the broken arm. Barry raises an eyebrow at him, and Magnus notices and switches around. Barry delivers the high-five and Magnus fist pumps before quickly scampering off to another room, hunting out more signatures. Merle goes chasing after him, loudly proclaiming, “Hey, dontcha want me to sign it?” Barry sighs and looks back down at his coffee cup.

He worries about Magnus. Not because he thinks Magnus is incapable. In fact, he thinks the exact opposite. Magnus is definitely strong and definitely capable of doing his job, but he’s quick to leap before he looks. They know now that they regenerate every cycle, but they still haven’t figured out how or _why_. Sure, Magnus didn’t die this time and sure, his foolhardiness has saved everyone else's skin before. But he's died like that before, and if he does manage to beef it again they can't be totally sure that he'll come back. And Barry definitely worries about that.

When Magnus comes down to dinner that night, he’s boasting his cast with even more pride. Each crew member’s name is scribbled across it, along with a few doodles to fill in the empty spaces. Magnus shows the table each update excitedly, pointing out the drawings. There’s some nicer one, probably from Lucretia: a small, fluffy dog, a thumbs up, an axe. Other than that, someone drew a few dicks, a smiley face, a stick figure with one arm up in a wave. Everyone agrees that it’s a wonderful piece of art and they enjoy a nice meal together. When they’re done, Lup leans back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head. “Hey Taako, tonight’s your turn to do the dishes.”

“Fuck no,” Taako huffs. He waves a hand dismissively. “Barry, you do ‘em.”

Barry scoffs. “Not my turn, not my problem.” Taako scowls at him, but backs down. “Fine. Magnus, I’ll make that dumb soup you like this week if you’ll do it instead.” Magnus shoots to his feet immediately. “Fuck yeah!” he exclaims, hurriedly gathering up the dishes and stacking them on his good arm. Merle yanks his plate out of his reach. “Hey, uh-uh! You can’t get your cast wet, big guy!”

Magnus’s face drops. “I can’t get it wet? What good does it even do, then?”

“Keeps you from fucking it up again, you big oaf. You can’t get it wet, soup promises be damned.”

“Damn.” He lets the dishes back down to the table with a clatter. “In that case, it’s a no from me, Taako.” He frowns down at his cast and walks away from the table. Taako looks down at the dishes, then back up at Barry meaningfully. Barry rolls his eyes, but he finds himself picking up the dishes and taking them to the sink to sit for the night. Hey, he’s sympathetic, but he still isn’t going to do the dishes without a reason.

-

Barry watches for the next week or so as Magnus realizes his new limitations. He wouldn’t be so attuned to it, but Magnus just keeps coming to him for help. Magnus can’t lift this, can’t reach this, can’t do whatever and every time he deems Barry the best person to help him out. It’s endearing, really. Barry likes Magnus and they’ve bonded before on missions for the light, but Barry’s still kind of intimidated by him. Magnus is the exact kind of guy who picked on him through his youth, at least on the surface. Barry knows that Magnus isn’t like that, but he worries about it sometimes. Also, not to mention that Barry maybe, just _maybe_ has a bit of a crush. The tiniest, smallest crush on Magnus, with his big brown eyes and pretty smile and nice broad shoulders and beautifully sculpted ass. And so, yeah. He does like the attention. He helps Magnus out happily, carrying firewood and moving weights and, eventually, doing the dishes for him.

It’s been about ten days since the break, four since the cast, and Barry’s drifting in and out of sleep when he hears a knock on his door. He sits bolt upright and calls out, “Yeah?”, glancing at the clock. It’s a little past midnight. No one should reasonably be looking for him this late. The knock comes again before his door pushes open, and the big shadow filling the doorframe can only be one person. "Hey, Bluejeans," he says, and Barry rubs his eyes, fumbling to get his glasses on. "What're you doing up?" Barry asks, still half-fogged by sleep. Magnus enters, softly closing the door behind him. He perches himself on the end of the bed. "Couldn't sleep."

"Oh." Barry sits up fully now, taking Magnus in. He's shirtless except his crew jacket, tossed lazily over his shoulders like an afterthought. His hair is a mess, pieces sticking out awkwardly. He's grinning. "Well," Barry starts cautiously, "can I help you?"

"Yeah, I was hoping so." Magnus turns, crossing his legs in front of him and- _oh_. Barry sees the problem now. He's rock hard beneath his pajama pants, tenting them severely. Barry swallows, the room feeling suddenly much smaller. Barry clears his throat. "Uh, what are you, uh. Looking for help with?"

Magnus's brow furrows in confusion. He gives Barry a very pointed look as he gestures at his erection.

"Well I figured- I'm trying really hard not to make assumptions here, Magnus." Barry scratches at the stubble on his cheek. "I just, y'know, wasn't expecting… this."

"You're not saying no," Magnus points out helpfully. Barry nods. "You're right. I'm not." He glances at Magnus's dick again, still struggling to comprehend the situation at hand. "What exactly are you asking, again?" Magnus pulls another face, but he does answer this time. “I needed help,” he explains. “And you’ve been helping me so far, and I just figured. Y’know.”

"You need… help. With your erection." Barry can feel himself turning red. With every second that passes, he's getting more and more sure that this is some vaguely horny dream. Magnus nods. "Yeah. I broke my jerking off arm."

"Magnus, gross. I don't need to know how you…" He trails off. Does he need to know? Is Magnus going to let him do this?

"Okay, I won't talk about how I jerk it. But I can't do it with my arm all casted up. So." He shrugs toward Barry.

"So you want me to…"

"Yeah." Magnus nods fast, a motion bordering on enthusiastic. "With your hand."

"Oh." Barry swallows hard. His throat is dry, impossibly so. His voice comes out tightly. "You're sure that won't be… weird? For us?"

"It's just bro shit," Magnus scoffs. "I'd do the same for you." The casualness with which he says that sends heat striking through Barry's gut. Has Magnus thought about touching him before? Does Magnus want him like that?

"Bro shit," Barry repeats dumbly. Magnus nods. "Yeah. Hey, can we get this show on the road? It's starting to hurt."

"Oh. Uh. Yeah." Barry doesn't give himself any longer to question this. He scoots closer and reaches out halfway before pulling his arm back. He can see himself physically shaking, and it takes a lot for him to manage a weak smile. "How do you wanna… like, what would be good for you?"

"Here." Magnus turns, putting his feet on the floor off the side of Barry's mattress. "Sit next to me. Like this."

"Okay." Barry does what he says. It doesn't feel real. Barry still isn't completely convinced that this isn't just a very well-constructed illusion. He scoots knee to knee with Magnus, feeling the warmth just pour off of the body in his bed.

Barry starts reaching again. He closes his eyes as he gets close and waits for himself to wake up. He never does. Instead, he touches hard, hot flesh, and hears Magnus let out a heavy breath. Barry nearly blacks out, just fucking dies where he's sitting, he won't lie. He won't, because he's thought about Magnus in this way before. He didn't think it would happen like this, but he's definitely thought about getting his hand on Magnus's cock, thought about it a lot. And still that breath, that single exhale is leagues beyond anything he imagined. Barry can't stand it. Another sharp pang of arousal shoots through him. 

"Hey, Bluejeans, you gonna-?"

"Huh? Yeah." Barry moves up, slipping his hand into Magnus's pants. He's warm, heat just fucking radiating off of him and his cock is fucking- it's _big_ , wide and already wet at the tip. Barry can't bring himself to open his eyes yet, just brushing fingertips over the head, gathering wetness as Magnus's big thighs shift, his upper body falling back onto his forearms. "Shit, Barry," he grumbles, and Barry literally _shivers_ , teeth digging into his lower lip. Fuck. Gods.

Barry drags his hand down Magnus's shaft, trying to memorize the weight of him in his hand. It's good, it's so good, Barry hasn't gotten laid since they left home and Magnus is making all these little _sounds_ that have Barry trembling. He's not going to ask Magnus to touch him after this. He can't, doesn't think he'd be able to, but he's going to savor this part while he can. Magnus shifts his thighs a little further apart, fucking himself up once into the circle of Barry's fist. " _C'mon,_ " he mutters, probably only to himself, but Barry hears it anyway. Hell _yes,_ Magnus _wants_ it. Barry can't believe it so instead of trying to he just listens, just moves his hand a little faster and hears Magnus's breath speed with each stroke.

Barry tries to pick up on what Magnus likes. If he's honest, the only cock he's touched in the last decade is his own, and he's a little out of practice even in that sense. Barry doesn't have the patience, really, to sit back and enjoy himself like this. He'll handle it when he wakes up hard but it's methodical more than anything, just so he can clear his head and spend the day with his brain put to better use. Whatever he's doing must be working to some extent, because when he lets go of Magnus's cock to start fondling his balls Magnus grunts and says, "That's good," in a tight, strained voice. Barry's eyes are definitely open now, and he's trying not to stare but he is, caught between Magnus's cock, now pulled out over the waistband of his pants, and his face, relaxed and intensely focused in the same moment. Barry brings his hand off and spits messily, not giving a fuck about how gross that really is and then putting it back on Magnus, who hisses and sits bolt upright, teeth clenched as he gets closer.

With him sitting up like this, Barry is struck with a traitorous urge to kiss him. He _wants_ , wants to bite down on his lower lip and tug it back, wants to kiss him so rough their teeth click. Maybe he's wanted that for a while, actually, but was just unwilling to entertain the thought before now. As it is he just keeps staring, hand moving quicker as Magnus gets louder, grunting almost constantly now, hips jerking upward unsteadily. Barry wipes a pearly bead of precome off the head with his thumb and Magnus gasps shakily, tilting sideways to lay his head on Barry's shoulder. He's breathing so _hard_ , so close to Barry's ear now. "Really good," Magnus assures him again, and his voice is rough in a way Barry's never heard it before. Barry could literally fucking die.

Barry watches him closely when he comes. Magnus shivers hard as it sweeps through him, his cock twitching as his mouth slides over Barry's collar, lips wet and breath coming hard. His face is completely lax, his stomach rippling as he tenses a few times, coating Barry's hand and the skin below his navel. Magnus closes his eyes, a blissful smile crossing his lips.

"Damn, Bluejeans. I would've never guessed." He peels open his eyes and sits up to look at Barry, that dopey smile still in full force. "You're good at that. I'm gonna have to break my arm more often."

Barry's stomach flips. He quickly cleans his hand with a cantrip and tries to play it cool. "Yeah, y'know. It's no big deal." His own voice is rougher than before. If Magnus notices, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he punches Barry in the arm, still grinning. "Thanks for the hand, bro. I'm gonna sleep like a rock now." Barry nods. He's so turned on it aches, and Magnus is still so close to him. Fuck, is Barry imagining things or does he _smell_ good? Gods. "No big deal," Barry repeats, because he can't think clear enough to come up with anything else. Magnus looks at Barry and there's a moment of hope; he must see it, must see how deeply Barry is flushed and his heaving chest, maybe even see his cock sitting hard up against his own waistband. Magnus's eyes flicker down and yes, _yes,_ he's reaching out with one big hand and Barry thinks that could be it, Magnus could just touch him once through his pants and-

Magnus claps his hand down on Barry's thigh, close to the knee. He's still smiling, and then he stands, takes his hand away. "I'll see you bright and early," he says, and he gives a stupid little wave as he passes through the doorway again, closing Barry's door behind himself.

The second, the very fucking _second_ that door clicks shut, Barry has his hand on his cock, jerking fast. He has no intention to make this part last, just wants to do it while he- gods, he can still feel the wet breath on his collar bone and Magnus spilling warm against his hand. He switches hands, puts the hand he had on Magnus in his mouth, biting down against the noises he's making. His hips are bucking up into his fist and he lets himself imagine, imagine other ways it could've gone: if Magnus would've let him use his mouth if he'd asked, how he would taste and sit heavy on his tongue and- _fuck_ \- how he'd be big enough to make Barry gag a little-

Barry feels it, feels the orgasm building but he's not done, actually, not ready, and he takes his hand away because- would Magnus edge him? Would Magnus watch him struggle and fuck his hips up into empty air? The pleasure draws back gradually and when it's almost gone, Barry takes himself in his hand again, and his palm is dry but fine, it's fine, what might the fighter's hand feel like on his cock, all big and rough? What would his mouth feel like, or his ass-

That's it for Barry, the idea of of fucking Magnus- the pleasure burns too hot, too bright for a moment and he bites his fingers hard enough that it _hurts._ He keeps stroking until he can't anymore, until that hurts, too, and then just a little longer to milk his orgasm for all it's worth. His breathing is light and fast. He's trembling. He casts that same cantrip to clean himself again and lays spread sideways on his bed until his breathing evens. He sits up, slowly.

He should've asked Magnus to stay. He's such a fucking idiot.

-

Barry kicks himself over it for the next full day. He's stupid, and he's still thinking about how stupid he is when Magnus stops him in the hallway before lights out the next night. "Hey, Barry, will you help me out again?"

"What do you need opened this time?" Barry complains, and if he's sulking then that's his business. Magnus makes a face, waggling his eyebrows. "You know. _Help_ me."

Barry's mood changes immediately. His heart picks up speed. "Again?"

Magnus shrugs. "Yeah, if you're willing."

"Okay. Yeah I'm- yeah. Lemme just… brush my teeth…"

"Cool." Magnus slaps him on the back with his good arm. "Catch ya in my room." He walks away unaffected.

Barry brushes his teeth too hard and makes his gums bleed. His legs are already trembling.

Magnus is fully fucking _nude_ when he walks in and Barry almost cries. He's so casual about this. It's like he has no idea the effect he's having.

"Hey," Magnus says, and he sits up and his cock is only half hard and Barry's mouth fucking waters. Barry clears his throat. "Hey," he replies, doing his very best to match Magnus's indifference as he settles onto the bed. Magnus stretches his arms above his head, yawning. "I think I'm gonna lie down for this one," he says, and he lays back against the pillows. Barry is too fucking old for this shit. Magnus's hair spreads against the pillows like some sort of pinup in a calendar, all shaggy at the sides and with one hand pushed up into it all coy. Barry moves toward him and doesn't do much to hide his eagerness this time, sitting beside Magnus's lazily stretched form and jerking him off. Magnus comes quicker this time, boneless against the pillows. Barry wishes him goodnight and leaves, and then he gets himself off in his own room before turning in for the night.

-

It keeps happening.

Merle says four more weeks with the cast, and it's already been two weeks and Barry's been seeing Magnus almost every night. It's been four weeks with the cast when Barry manages to breathe out "can I use my mouth" halfway through and Magnus responds with an enthusiastic "fuck _yeah_ " and Barry's whole body is about to shake apart at the joints as he lowers himself to eye level with Magnus's cock.

It's a good looking cock. Maybe Barry just thinks that because of who it's attached to but he's into it, likes how it's only medium length but thick, likes the dark hair around its base and the fat head of it, wet with precome. He likes how it feels when it slides past his lips and he _really_ likes how Magnus groans, his hand reaching halfway for Barry's hair before pulling away like he changed his mind or something. Barry can't have that, he pulls back and says, "You can-" but that's all he gets out before Magnus listens, gripping his hair by the root and pushing him back. 

Magnus's hand is guiding but not controlling, which is good considering Barry's gag reflex is pretty bad. What he can't offer in terms of depth he tries to make up for in enthusiasm, letting himself be sloppy and drool and lapping up every drop of precome that slips down the shaft. It's good, it's so good and Barry thinks if this goes for a while longer, he could come in his pants from it. Magnus isn't noisy when Barry uses his hand but he gets damn close to loud like this, gritting his teeth as he moans into his palm, hips working up in shallow little thrusts. Barry is going to die like this. He's going to die and Magnus is gonna have to find some other way to get off because Barry will be _dead_.

Barry wants him to come. He wants to see it up close like this, taste it, and he brings a hand up to trace a finger against the skin behind his balls. Magnus makes a sound like he's been hit, hand tightening in Barry's hair deliciously. "I'm gonna-" he manages, and Barry pulls off but sticks his tongue out, and maybe this is too far to be considered purely 'bro shit' but Magnus comes on his tongue, and on his lips and on his glasses. Barry feels it building at that, arousal liquid and hot in his gut as he _tastes_ , feels Magnus's thighs shaking against his cheek as he laps it up, takes every drop, and Barry doesn't care if he looks slutty or debauched because he _is_ , he'd do anything to make Magnus come for him like that again. Magnus pushes his head away so he can sit up without kneeing Barry in the chin, and his pupils are blown so wide that his eyes are more black than brown. His lips are red and wet.

"Dude," he says, and offers Barry a fistbump with his good hand. Barry bumps it, still licking his lips. He casts that cleaning cantrip on his glasses, but it leaves the lenses spotty regardless. Barry smiles. "Always glad to help," he says, which is true. He stands, casual as ever, and goes back to his room.

Barry manages three strokes before he comes, still in his boxers.

-

He's going to lose his mind.

It's the last week with the cast. Merle is adamant that the cast needs to come off soon, mostly because he's tired of picking up the slack for Magnus's chores. "I liked it better when you were doing all this dumb shit for Magnus," he complains one night, and Barry really doesn't have the heart to tell him that he's definitely still helping Magnus out. It's frequent and it's near identical every time, Barry getting Magnus off and then minutes later, himself in the next room over, thinking about his dick. Which is fine. Mostly.

The thing is, Barry's running out of time. What he's doing still boils down to a favor, and he's not gonna have a reason to do it once Magnus gets his arm back. There's an expiration date on these meetings, and it's racing toward them very, very quickly. 

Barry is mostly content with the arrangement. _Mostly._ He's more than happy to help Magnus out but, fuck, he's not unaffected by all this. At this point, he's unsure if Magnus is ignoring it on purpose or if he's just fucking oblivious. Barry doesn't do much to hide it anymore, and Magnus's room shares a wall with his. He's sure that despite his efforts to be quiet, Magnus must've heard _something_ within the weeks they've been doing this, some noise or bang after Barry goes back and frantically beats off after they finish up. But Magnus doesn't say anything. A week left with the cast turns into five days left, four days left. Barry keeps going back to his room.

When there's a measly two days left before the cast comes off, Magnus stops Barry as he wraps his hand around him. Which, honestly, Barry is upset about. If nothing else, Magnus should at least let him have this.

"Hey, I had an idea I wanted to spring," Magnus says. He pushes Barry's hand down to the bed and drops it there. "Feel free to shoot it down."

"I'm not gonna shoot it down before you even tell me what it is," Barry answers. He's got zero ideas as to where this might be leading.

Magnus puts a hand on his own neck, scratching uncomfortably. "I mean, it's just an idea," he reiterates. "But if you'd be willing to let me…" He trails off, eyes shifting. Suddenly, Barry is nervous about this in a way he hasn't been for a month and a half. He hears the ocean roaring in his ears. "Let you…?" He prompts, and it's with no small amount of excitement that he notices Magnus blushing hard, his cheeks dark.

"Well, if you'd let me… fuck your thighs, maybe." He's staring intently at the bedspread. Barry's heart jumps into his throat, and then back into his chest and his dick _throbs_. He could literally fucking cry. Barry finds bravery in how shy Magnus has become in this moment, grabs his hand and guides it up, and god, _finally,_ puts Magnus's big warm hand on his leg. "I'd be happy to help," he says, because it's never been truer and as soon as he says it Magnus is beaming. He runs his hand along Barry's thighs over his pants, and even like that it's a lot. Barry is almost dizzy with how quick he's getting hard, how fast it's hitting him, how his whole body sings _at last, at last._

Magnus pulls Barry's pants down, and there's no way in any universe that he wouldn't see how hard Barry is, how bad he's aching for it. Even then he doesn't mention it, just asks Barry to spread his legs as he fumbles through his drawer for some lube. He seems to have trouble so Barry takes pity on him and just casts Grease. The slick that spreads along his legs is cold enough to make him tense, and Magnus grins like he got exactly what he wanted. "Thanks," he says, and then he pushes Barry over onto his side and spoons up behind him, his good arm around his waist. Barry is certain this is it for him, that he'll finally implode and that'll just be it for the cycle, because Magnus's cock is rubbing against the cleft of his ass through his boxers. He can't help it, he's grinding back on it and it's _hot_ and he's thinking about it now, about Magnus changing his mind and fucking him for _real._ He's got just enough time to get his hopes up before they're dashed and Magnus shifts down just a bit to line himself up with Barry's thighs.

Barry isn't particularly religious. He never has been, and he doubts he ever will be but he shoots up a quick prayer just in case any gods are listening. He's not sure what he's praying for, but he feels like the answer might be the feeling of Magnus's cock, thick and warm and heavy, slipping between the seam of his thighs. 

Barry doesn't know what he expected. He's been fucked plenty of times, thank you very much, but never like this, between his thighs. It feels different, nothing like anything he's ever felt as Magnus drags his cock, slow and velvety smooth, against his thighs. The skin there is _sensitive,_ and it sends a little jolt through Barry's body. He swallows a moan as Magnus curses in his ear. Maybe he should've prayed that he wouldn't just come immediately when Magnus starts thrusting.

Magnus picks up speed slowly, breath punching out of him in gasps, hot to the point of wetness on Barry's neck. Gods, Barry is going to die here. Magnus starts rutting into him at a steady pace. His hips snap roughly against Barry's skin, maybe hard enough to leave bruises, and his grip shifts from Barry's waist to the top of his leg, holding his thighs close together. Barry can't help himself, he can't, and he's moaning along with Magnus, hand slipping down to stroke himself. It's so good, so much after a whole fucking lot of _nothing_ and Magnus is fucking against him at a rapid clip, his cock wet and leaking against Barry's thighs.

Barry can't believe they didn't do this sooner. He can't believe they're already out of time. Barry's never been so turned on in his goddamn life and his thighs _ache_ with how tight they're pressed, how roughly Magnus is fucking into them. His chest is heaving against Barry's back and he's making those incredible little sounds he makes, the ones that mean he's going to come soon. Barry, again, can't help himself, doesn't really care to anymore. He begs for it, opens his mouth and says "Magnus, please, please cum on me-" and he's barely got the words out when Magnus moans, a real, full moan and buries himself between Barry's thighs, spilling warm against him and onto the mattress on the other side. Barry's still stroking himself, desperate, and he's sure there's tears streaking his cheeks when he comes, further dirtying himself as Magnus pulls away. They're both breathing sharply, quickly. Barry can barely manage to cast his cleaning cantrip.

"Hey," Magnus says a little later. The room is quiet but their shared breaths.

"Hey," Barry answers. He rolls onto his back. "I'll go in just a minute. Once my legs stop shaking."

Magnus makes a noise in response. A moment passes before he amends his statement to, "You can stay here. If you want."

Something warm blooms in Barry's chest. "Uh, yeah. I do want to stay."

"Cool," Magnus says. He tosses his still-casted arm over Barry's middle and is asleep in minutes.

This is nice. Very nice. Barry had better not let himself get used to it.

-

Merle cuts the cast off with a spell. It's overdramatic and probably a gross misuse of godly magic, but he does it anyway. It's a celebration, in a way. Things go back to normal now.

Barry is happy for Magnus. He is, really, especially when he sees the joy that comes with him being able to shake his wrist out, flex his fingers. Magnus insists on doing the dinner dishes that night. No one complains.

Barry goes to bed early. It's not like he has anything to wait up for.

He's in his own bedroom, drifting between awake and not, when he hears a knock on his door. He doesn't respond because whatever it is can wait. He's tired. Someone else can handle it. 

"You up, Bluejeans?" comes a whisper, and Barry's eyes shoot open. He sits up and tries for his glasses. Before he can get them on or even really pick them up, Magnus is close enough to see him just fine. He's smiling.

"Hey. Why'd you head off so early?" He asks, and if Barry didn't know better, he'd think Magnus sounds hurt. Barry blinks at him. "I was tired," he answers, lying. "What's it to you?"

Magnus frowns. "Oh. Uh, nothing I guess. I just… was wondering." He sits down by Barry's hip. "Lup and Taako made dessert. It was pie, the kind without gluten in the crust, so you could eat it too. You missed out."

Barry wants to feel annoyed. He does, really, but there's that treacherous sliver of hope. He ignores it. He shrugs. "I'll get some in the morning." He closes his eyes again.

"You can't," Magnus says after a pause. "I ate your serving."

Barry opens his eyes just so he can roll them. "Gee, thanks. Anything else you wanna take from me, or is that it for the night?" His words are sharp. 

Magnus frowns again. "Hey, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting all moody?" He leans down toward the bed so he can look Barry in the eyes. Barry groans and rolls to face the other direction. 

Magnus sits back up and stays quiet. Barry waits for him to leave. He stays.

"What do you even want, Magnus?" He asks finally, because he's not getting any sleep like this. Magnus turns back around to face him again. He definitely, definitely looks hurt now.

"It's stupid I guess. I can go."

Okay, fuck. He's annoyed but he likes Magnus, and doesn't want to hurt him. "Wait." Barry sits up now. He sighs. "I'm sorry, Magnus. Really. I'm just frustrated, you know?"

Magnus's brow furrows. "Frustrated why?" He sounds genuinely oblivious. Barry can't believe he's going to force him to say this out loud. 

"Because… well, you know. Since your cast is off you won't… need my _help_ anymore. I'm just trying to get used to things being normal again."

Magnus raises an eyebrow. He smiles. Then he laughs, and Barry doesn't stop himself from socking him in the arm. Magnus doesn't even flinch, just laughs harder. "Dude," he says, that easy smile still present. "I thought you _knew._ "

"Knew _what?_ " Barry demands, crossing his arms. Magnus holds his left hand, the one that wasn't broken, up beside himself. "I realized after the first week I could've just been jacking it with lefty."

Barry stays silent. He can't believe he didn't consider that either.

"But I kinda liked it. With you." Magnus shrugs. "I figured you knew. I guess I should've brought it up? Maybe?"

Barry feels a smile tugging at his own lips despite his better judgement. Magnus is very capable. He's also very stupid. Barry might like stupid men. "So what're you saying, then?"

"I'm saying I've got no intention," Magnus says, "of stopping. I could still use some help, I think."

Barry lets the smile spill over. He reaches for Magnus's collar. "Cool." He kisses Magnus. It's so easy, so nice. He can't believe they haven't been doing it this whole time. He should've kissed Magnus that first night. Or a few years ago. They kiss for a while.

"Quick question," Barry says when they pull apart. "Cause I've been jerking off by myself afterwards every time. Can you maybe get me off too?" He smiles. "No pressure or anything, Burnsides."

Magnus raises his eyebrows, "Let's put that to the test," Magnus answers, and he presses his palm to Barry over his pants. They start kissing again.

(Magnus can definitely get him off. And he does.)

(And it's nice.)

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit I finally wrote burnjeans! i dont typically care for non-canon ships in taz but this is my exception. barry and Magnus are good together and there is not enough content. together, we can work to change that.
> 
> aaaanyways. I'm writing a Couple other things including some graduation stuff.. i hope i can keep this up cuz i've been writing a good amount lately! kudos comments and bookmarks keep me goin' folks, i really do appreciate them all. 
> 
> i'm on tumblr @burnsidesjulia, and I hope everybody out there has a lovely day.


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